"And how does the poor child employ herself?" asked Letty.
"Oh, she reads a deal,—especially in the Bible; and you'll laugh, ma'am, when I tell you she has taught me to read. Not a word could I make out a year ago; and now I can read pretty well. And there's a young lady next door who comes to see her sometimes,—a Miss Cutler,—who has taught Madge to do crochet-work and embroidering; and that keeps her busy. She begs money of her father, and sends me out to buy wool, and so on, for her; and there she sits propped up in bed, and works away as though her life depended on it. She has made a beautiful sofa-cushion and a pair of footstools for the parlour, already. I think sometimes she works too much; but it is a great comfort to her,—poor child!"
"Does she ever speak of me?" asked Letty.
"Oh, yes, many a time, and wants to see you; but she don't dare say a word to her father or mother, they feel so against you and Mr. Caswell. Mr. Emerson told her never to speak your name. You never saw a body so changed as he is. He used to be such an easy-going kind of man, you know; and now he is dreadful violent when he gets into one of his tantrums. They have changed cooks a dozen times since we moved into that house; and I'd 'a' gone away many a time if it hadn't been for leaving that child."
"Don't go if you can help it, Mary," said Letty, earnestly. "Think how sad it would be for the poor child to be left to the care of strangers."
"True for you, ma'am. It is that which keeps me; for I could have got better places a dozen times; but I can't leave the child, as long as I can stand it to stay there."
Letty gave Mary a present, and sent a great many messages to Madge, which the girl promised to deliver. She had little hope of a reconciliation at present. She knew that Joe must feel very much ashamed of his attempt to make her give up her rights; and she was well aware how hard it is for most people to forgive those whom they have injured.
She did, however, make one more attempt to put an end to the quarrel. Hearing, through a mutual acquaintance, that Agnes was about to be confined, she worked the prettiest baby-blanket that wit could devise or hands crochet, and at the birth of her little boy, she sent it to Agnes with a kind note.
The parcel was carried up to Agnes, who opened it herself. Her eyes sparkled at the sight of such a beautiful piece of work; and, to do her justice, her heart was really touched by what she could not but feel to be the undeserved kindness of Letty's note and present.
"Well, really, I must say it was very pretty in Letty!" she said, displaying the blanket to Mrs. Van Horn, who was spending the morning with her. "I do think she really has the most forgiving temper in the world."